


Truth, Clarity

by quercus



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-12-05
Updated: 2001-12-05
Packaged: 2017-10-05 12:09:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quercus/pseuds/quercus





	Truth, Clarity

Teal'c said, "Oh, _crap_."

Daniel's head snapped up so quickly he could hear the vertebrae pop. Hammond's eyes widened, Carter turned her laugh into a cough, and Jack blushed to the roots of his hair.

"Colonel O'Neill," Hammond said quietly.

"Uh, yes, sir." They all stared at him, including Teal'c, who looked mildly puzzled.

"I'd like to see you after this briefing."

Daniel thought Jack would glow in the dark if he turned any redder. "Yes, sir."

"Very well. Proceed, Doctor Jackson."

"Ah, well. As I was saying, since Apophis' death, we haven't had much information about the System Lords and the factions currently forming. In order to be better prepared on earth, I suggest we meet with the Tollan to discuss sharing information."

"They will refuse us, Daniel Jackson."

"Well, yes, possibly. Probably. But I think we should try. The attempt has the added advantage of keeping us in contact with the Tollan, and --"

"Teal'c's right, Daniel. The Tollan never have anything useful to say to us. Why do you think they might this time?"

Daniel looked at Sam, who blushed slightly. "I have reason to believe they are re-evaluating their position on the Tau'ri."

There was an awkward silence, and then Teal'c said, "Though they will refuse us, I do see some strategic benefit in remaining in contact with them. I therefore recommend we follow Daniel Jackson's suggestion."

"Uh, thank you, Teal'c."

General Hammond raised his eyebrows, but didn't say anything, just flipped through the report Daniel had given him. At last, he said, "Very well, Doctor Jackson. I will take this under advisement." He looked up from the report, at Daniel. "Thank you, Doctor. I'll have an answer in a few days."

They sat at the briefing table for a few awkward seconds more, and then Daniel rose. "Thank you, General." He led the way out, turning back to see Jack sitting stiffly at the table. He felt a little sorry for him, but only a little.

"Teal'c," Sam said as soon as they were alone in the elevator. "Um, did Colonel O'Neill teach you to say 'crap'?"

"He did."

"Did he mention that it's one of those words where, uh, when. Uh, Daniel?"

"Teal'c, in English, we have different vocabularies for different purposes and different audiences. 'Crap' is a word we tend to reserve for informal occasions, and when speaking to close friends."

Teal'c nodded. "Then expressing my initial concerns in such a manner at your idea that we return to Tollana was inappropriate?"

"Well. Basically, yes. In that particular situation. Sorry, but, yes."

He nodded again. "I see. I will remember this."

"Good. Good." Daniel patted Teal'c's arm. "I'm gonna work on that translation from P3X-931. Do you have some time to help me?"

"I believe I must sit kel-no-reem at this time. When I am through, I will assist you."

"Thanks, Teal'c."

"You are most welcome."

Daniel glanced at Sam; she was smiling to herself. He pinched her upper arm and she smacked his shoulder. "Got any coffee?" she asked.

"Yeah. Come on by and I'll give you a cup. See ya, Teal'c."

"I will indeed see you, Daniel Jackson, Major Carter." He stepped into his quarters, and they began to laugh.

"So General Hammond is reaming out Jack right now?"

"Oh, sure, you betcha," Sam laughed, shaking her head. "I couldn't believe my ears."

Daniel shook his head. "I wish I could've been there for that conversation."

"Which one? When the colonel taught Teal'c to swear, or when Hammond is reaming him out?"

"Well, both, actually." They smiled at each other and turned into Daniel's office. "What are you working on, Sam?"

"Don't laugh at me, but I've been going over that list of supplies that Orlin charged to me, trying to figure how he built that miniature stargate."

"Why would I laugh? That sounds like a good idea."

"Well, the colonel laughed at me."

Over the noise of grinding beans, Daniel said, "You take him too seriously."

"He's my commanding officer."

"Well, yes, but he's _Jack_." They smiled at each other again; a familiar discussion after so many years of working together. "You really think you can reverse engineer Orlin's work from your MasterCard bill?"

She shrugged, leaning against his desk. "Well. I think I'll learn something, and that's worthwhile. I do know a lot about the mechanics of the stargate. So, maybe."

"You're right; it's worth a try." He looked up from the coffeemaker, now beginning to drip. "So I'll work on the translation, you'll work on the baby stargate, and maybe we'll get to visit Tollana."

She blushed, although not as much as Jack had in the briefing. "I'd like that. I like it there."

"You like Narim," he teased her.

"Well. He is a nice guy."

"He is. Plus there's always Schroedinger to look in on."

"Yeah." She smiled in fond memory, rocking on her heels. "Do you know why the colonel doesn't like Narim?"

"We've never discussed it. Why do you think he doesn't like Narim?"

"Well, he isn't very nice to him."

"Sam. Jack isn't very nice to anybody, is he? No, I'm serious. It's just his way. I don't think he doesn't like Narim. I do know he doesn't care for the Tollan's refusal to share technology."

"But that isn't Narim's decision."

"Does he disagree with it?"

"Well, no. But."

"I told you, Sam. You take Jack too seriously. I mean, I get it that you owe him a level of respect simply because he's your commanding officer. And I do think he deserves respect for his abilities. He's good at what he does. But he isn't perfect."

"That's why he keeps you around," she teased. "To remind him of that." They smiled at each other, and then Daniel poured them coffee. "You guys are good friends, aren't you."

"I guess." He looked at her through the steam of his coffee. "Actually, yes. He's one of the best friends I've ever had. Why?"

"Well, you just seem to know him so well. And you've always been so easy around him, and he isn't an easy man to be easy around."

"No, he isn't." There was a pause, and Daniel could tell that Sam was trying to formulate a question. He took pity on her and said, "It was because of our time on Abydos. Things that happened there."

"It made you friends."

"It made us friends."

"And so you came back when he sent that kleenex box through."

He smiled in memory. "Yeah. I knew that was from Jack the minute I saw it."

Sam drank her coffee, then set the mug down. "Thank you, Daniel. I should get back to work."

"Sam. Just don't take him quite so seriously."

"Easy for you to say."

"Yes, actually, it is." They smiled at each other.

"I have work to do."

"So you said."

"You have that translation."

"Yes, I do."

"I should go."

"Unless you want to stay? More coffee? Could you review your MasterCard bill here?"

"No. No, thanks. I'll go. Just. Really, thank you, Daniel. I'll try to be more, uh, assertive with the colonel."

"You go, girl."

She scowled at him as she left, but stuck her head back in his office to smile forgivingly.

Daniel refreshed his coffee and settled himself at his desk, pulling up the photographs taken at P3X-931. It seemed to be a Latin-based language; he thought he recognized the roots of many words. But the spatial distribution of the characters had him wondering if he wasn't looking at a graphic representation of temporal coordination of gestures accompanying the text.

Or maybe they were just lousy typesetters.

He snickered at that, and then focused on his task, several Latin dictionaries at his elbow and the coffee mug steaming nearby.

His mug was empty and the smell of burning coffee from the maker was strong when he looked up at a sharp rap on the doorframe. "Hey, Jack." He leaned back in his chair and stretched.

"You pullin' an all-nighter?"

Daniel glanced at his watch. "Guess I am. Kind of lost track of time."

"Come on, Daniel. Let me buy you a late dinner."

Daniel looked longingly at the work he'd done. "I don't know, Jack. I've really made some progress here . . ."

"I insist. As your team leader and your friend. Come on. You need to eat, and I want some company."

Daniel remembered Teal'c's behavior at the earlier briefing and decided he was too curious to pass up the opportunity to ask. "Okay."

As they started down the hall, Jack said, "You talk to Teal'c?"

"Um, if you mean, did I explain that there's a time and a place for expletives, yes, I did."

"Thanks."

"What did Hammond want?"

"Oh, I think you can guess." Jack caught Daniel's eye and grimaced.

"That bad, hunh."

"Oh, you betcha. I think I'll leave interpreting foreign languages to the experts."

"Very wise, Jack." They shut up while examining the commissary's offerings left after the evening shift had eaten, but when they'd seated themselves, Daniel asked, "Do you think Hammond will okay a visit to Tollana?"

Jack shrugged, and stuck a fork into his spaghetti. "I think so. As much as I don't like them, I think you have a point. We should remind them of our existence. Who knows; maybe we can help them with something."

Daniel laughed. "Yeah. Maybe. But I think we should have ambassadors or something stationed there, and a Tollan consulate here on earth."

"I can't believe I'm going to say this, but that's actually a really good idea." He stared at Daniel. "I'm serious. That is a really good idea." He ate faster. "I'm gonna write up a proposal to Hammond tonight, to arrange for that. Will you help?"

"Well, I'm in the middle of that translation . . ."

"Yeah, yeah, but come on. It was your idea. I'll write the initial draft. You just gotta, you know, fix it up. Sell the idea."

Daniel stared at Jack, scarfing down spaghetti and salad and oily garlic bread. "You really think it's a good idea?"

"No," he said through a mouthful of bread. "It sucks. I'm just being real nice."

"Asshole," Daniel told him affectionately, and Jack grinned at him.

Jack walked Daniel back to his office, slapping him on the back before heading off to his own office. Daniel watched him go, stalking the corridors while airmen snapped salutes at him.

He stood at his desk for a while, staring at the work he'd done. But Jack had broken his train of thought and he wasn't sure he'd get it back tonight. He washed out the coffee pot and made another batch, leaning against the counter to watch it drip. He was starting to feel sleepy, his limbs heavy and relaxed after his carbohydrate-rich meal, and wasn't sure if he could get his mind back into the work. But when the coffee was ready, he sat back down and reviewed his notes, and soon was deep in the task again.

Another rap at the door brought him back to SGC, and he looked up to find Jack staring at him disapprovingly. "What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here?" he asked with some justification.

"Just sent that proposal off to you. Go home. Get some sleep. Work on this tomorrow."

He leaned back in his chair, listening to the bones in his back pop and enjoying the stretch in his muscles. "God, I should. You're right." He looked up at Jack. "What about you?"

"I'm on my way. Come on. I'll walk you up."

He sighed, and tidied his notes, flicked off the coffee maker and lights, and locked his door, shrugging on his jacket. "You still think the consulate is a good idea?"

"Yeah, I do. I think it'll be good for the Tollans to be on earth. I mean, they look like us, kind of, so they can even live off base if they want. Set 'em up someplace nice. Not that they'll think it's nice, oh no. We're so primitive." Jack rolled his eyes. "And there's so much bad shit going on here, it might just frighten them off. But they can't deny we're significant players now. I bet they'll want to know more about us."

"You're thinking about spying on them, seeing what technology they bring to earth."

"Daniel, Daniel, Daniel. When did you become such a cynic?"

"Uh, after working with you all these years." They shared a smile and then attended to the security needs of exiting the base. "So." Daniel stood at his car, breathing with pleasure the fresh moist air of a Colorado fall. "If you still want me to, I'll look over the proposal tomorrow."

"That's why I emailed it to you."

"Then I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah. Hey, Daniel." Jack stared at him, unusually hesitant, as if he had something to say. At last, he just said, "Thanks. Good night."

"Good night, Jack. You're welcome." Then Jack was off, heading toward his oversized and uneconomical pickup truck. At least, Daniel consoled himself as he climbed into his extremely mileage-efficient car, it isn't an SUV.

He wasn't sure he could be friends with someone who drove an SUV.

Daniel slept in the next day, justified, he told himself, by his late night, and found Teal'c waiting for him when he arrived. "Good morning, Daniel Jackson," he was greeted.

"Good morning, Teal'c. How are you today?"

"Very well. I have spoken to General Hammond about that matter we discussed yesterday. He expressed pleasure that you have explained the situations in which I may use the word 'crap.'"

Daniel smiled up at his friend. "I'm sure he was grateful."

"Very."

Daniel swore that Teal'c was amused, but he knew he'd never find out by asking, so he just let them into his office and scattered the translations he'd done the night before over his desk, carefully setting down his extra-large Italian roast so it wouldn't spill.

"You enjoy that beverage," Teal'c observed, not for the first time, and not for the first time, Daniel said, "Yes. Would you like some?"

"No, thank you."

"You liked it when Urgo was with us."

"Urgo is no longer here."

"Thank god."

"It is as you say." Teal'c picked up the photographs of the walls on P3X-931 and studied them. Daniel silently handed him the translations he'd been working on. "Daniel Jackson, this is based on an ancient earth language, which O'Neill and I have studied."

"Yes, yes. I'm sure you're right. What do you think of the translation thus far?"

Daniel hung up his coat and sipped his coffee while Teal'c read over his work. He couldn't help himself; after a few moments, he said, "Teal'c. How did Jack come to teach you to say 'crap'? And what other words did he teach you?"

"He told me that 'crap' was used to express displeasure or concern or dismay. He also told me that 'shit' was used to express either anger or dismay. He said I should avoid using the word 'fuck,' as it has too many meanings."

Daniel burst out laughing. "Well, yes. I think that was wise of him. Um, did he explain any of those meanings?"

"Yes."

"Ohh-kay. So, the translation."

Teal'c stared at him for a few seconds more and then returned his attention to Daniel's scribbles. "A single word can carry many meanings, Daniel Jackson. I have observed this in many languages."

"Is that more true for some languages than others?"

"Yes, of course. For example, on Shistgl, which is P2X-356, there is in one language seven words for different types of rain, while in another language on the same planet, there is only one word for rain but three words for different kinds of drought."

"So English isn't unique in having many words for some things and few for others."

Teal'c shook his head. "As a linguist, you already know this."

"Yeah, yes, I do. I guess it's just good to hear it confirmed."

"Why is that?"

Daniel paused, wondering. "I'm not sure, Teal'c. I'll have to get back to you on that."

Teal'c nodded regally, and said, "As a linguist, you are aware that just as one language may have many words for the same thing, one word may have many meanings." Daniel nodded, a little puzzled. "I believe you should meditate on the many meanings of the English word 'love,' Daniel Jackson."

"Uh. Why?"

"I find a focus during meditation very helpful."

Daniel was a bit taken aback; he couldn't imagine what Teal'c was trying to tell him. But he only said, "Okay." And they turned their attention back to the translation he'd worked on, Teal'c suggesting changes while Daniel flipped through the various dictionaries.

A familiar knock on his door brought Daniel's attention up from the book he was studying. "Oh. I forgot. The proposal."

Jack made a face. "You never forget your translations; how come you forget my stuff?"

"Sorry, Jack. Really. Teal'c, I need to, uh, to review a proposal that Jack wrote."

"Of course. Would you like me to continue with this task?"

"Yes, that'd be great." He pushed the books and papers off his keyboard and sat at his desk, launching his email application and calling up Jack's email. Behind him, Jack peered over Teal'c's shoulder.

"What is that? That's based on Latin, right?"

"It is."

"Let me look." Teal'c passed him one of the photographs Daniel had taken on P3X-931, and he leaned one hip against Daniel's desk, studying it. "How come it's spaced like this? That doesn't make sense."

"I think it's to be spoken," Daniel said, looking up from the monitor. "That it's a sort of choreography, or more accurately, pictorial representations of gestures."

Jack looked at the photo again. "Hm," was all he said, and began flipping through the stack of photos scattered across Daniel's desk. Daniel went back to the proposal.

After a while, he heard Jack say, "Big T, remember when we were learning this stuff?"

"I do."

"Remember hitting the golf balls through the gate?"

"O'Neill. I did not enjoy the game of golf. I do not understand the pleasure of striking a small ball."

"Well, yeah, it's not exactly my game either, but ya gotta admit, it was cool, hitting a ball several hundred light years." Daniel smiled to himself.

"Cool. Is this word appropriate to use in a formal situation, such as a briefing with General Hammond?"

"Uh, no. Not really. Hey, Teal'c, I'm really sorry about that. I guess I should have explained things a little better."

"It was a learning situation, O'Neill."

"You said it." Daniel didn't think Jack had found it a very pleasant learning experience, but he didn't say anything.

"Okay," he said, leaning back to look up at Jack. "I'll email this back to you and you can forward it to Hammond."

"Under both our names," Jack promised.

"Ya think?" Jack grinned at him. "Listen, Teal'c," Daniel continued. "What do you think about suggesting to Hammond that the Tollan set up a consulate here on earth?"

Teal'c pursed his mouth, obviously deep in thought. "I believe this could further the cause of the Tau'ri and ultimately help strengthen ties between the Tollan and the Tau'ri. Although earth is a protected planet, when an SG team goes off-world, we are subject to the System Lords. Closer ties with the Tollan might assist us in such a situation."

"Exactly my thoughts," Jack said, although Daniel knew he'd said no such thing in the proposal. He raised his eyebrows, and Jack said, "Well, it's a good idea. I'll add it in. Thanks, Teal'c. Thanks, Daniel."

"You're welcome, Jack."

Daniel's phone rang; Jack hung around to make sure it wasn't for him or some dire emergency for Daniel. But it was Sergeant Davis in the gateroom; SG-6 was due to report in from P2X-356 and he wanted to know if Daniel would like to observe the report. "I'll be right there," he told Davis, and stood up. "Wanna come with? It's SG-6."

"Let's go, Teal'c."

Early that afternoon, Daniel stared at a monitor in the lab where he was examining a videotape SG-6 had made, but he was really watching the reflection of Jack and Teal'c in it, not the images broadcast. Behind him, they were talking, Teal'c staring down at Jack with a look that over the years Daniel had come to recognize as one of fond amusement. He couldn't hear their conversation; the lab was noisy, the speakers had a slight hiss in them, and Jack and Teal'c were too far away. But he saw that Jack was talking with enthusiasm, gesturing with his hands, and he was pretty sure that that particular gesture meant "That fish was _this_ big."

Teal'c didn't look as though he either believed it or cared, only that he was pleased that Jack was pleased with the fish.

Then Graham Simmons said, "Doctor Jackson? Should I rewind that bit?" and he woke up to the fact that half the lab was watching him watch Jack instead of the monitor.

"Oh, yeah, sorry. Drifted off there for a moment. Yes, please."

When he was able to look back, his friends were gone.

Daniel remembered their conversation later that day, when he was in the commissary with Sam, having a very late lunch. "So are you gonna get away this weekend? Assuming we aren't called back to the mountain to save the world?" Her pretty smile flashed at him before she spooned in a mouthful of tomato soup.

"Probably just work. Do you have plans?"

"Well, the colonel's trying to get someone to go fishing with him."

"I think I saw him ask Teal'c."

She laughed, covering her mouth with a napkin. "I heard about that from both of them. Teal'c turned him down."

"No surprise, after the last time."

"Teal'c really doesn't like mosquitoes."

"Do you?"

"No. And they love me." Sam looked mournful. "All biting insects love me. It isn't fair."

"You must be sweeeeet," he teased her, and she tossed her head.

"Of course I am. And with that sour colonel or sweet me to choose from, who're they gonna bite? So I turned him down, too."

Daniel frowned and took a bite of his sandwich. When he swallowed, he admitted, "He never asked me."

Sam rolled her eyes. "Is there a chance in hell you'd've said yes?"

"Um. No."

"Is it within the range of the possible that the colonel might _think_ you'd've said yes?"

He laughed. "You're right. Last time he asked me, I nearly bit his head off."

She shrugged and ate more soup. "Wish they'd get a different cook," she muttered between spoonsful, and he nodded his agreement.

Contrary to popular belief, Daniel did go home at night. He had to feed the fish, of course, and he liked his big bed and airy apartment. He liked to feel the breeze from the windows, and hear the traffic outside, pleasures unattainable in the bowels of Cheyenne Mountain. One of the best perks of being a civilian attached to the military was his paycheck, most of which went into the bank, but that still allowed him the nicest place he'd lived in since he was a little boy in Egypt.

And especially after such a late night the day before, he was happy to be home, puttering around, wondering if he should do laundry on a Friday night or if that would speak of some inner lack of resources. Not much on TV, but he had a pile of journal articles he wanted to get through, he was finalizing two separate reports from SG-1's last missions, and he needed to think about writing performance evaluations for his department, plus a justification for a pay raise for Nyan. The translation was also in his briefcase, but he'd decided to leave it for at least a day so he could approach it fresh.

So home, he thought, and not down to the laundry room tonight. He made coffee and fried himself two eggs for dinner before settling down on his couch, feet propped up on an ottoman, journals and pens at his side.

Ottoman. He loved that word. He stared at the piece of furniture under his feet. From the Ottoman empire, a Turkish sultanate that had ruled so powerfully and so well; from there, the word migrated into French, and finally into English. Ottoman. The strata of significance and the changing meaning pleased him; like a luscious layer cake, each layer richer because of its propinquity to the last.

He'd picked up The Journal of Latin American Lore; the cover promised an article on gestures of submission, and he had been wondering ever since he'd heard about it if these were remnants from Goa'uld occupation. Before he'd read two paragraphs, though, someone knocked at his door.

He dropped his head back to rest on the couch. Maybe if he ignored them, they'd go away? But he heard another knock, and then Jack's voice, sounding a little annoyed, shouting his name.

"I'm here," he called, and swung open the door. Jack smiled brilliantly at him and sauntered in. He carried a large grocery bag that bulged ominously.

"Hey. Whatcha doing?"

"I was trying to read."

"Well, I was bored. Have a beer with me and then read your magazine."

Daniel smiled. As if he could turn down such an invitation. "Journal. I hope beer's in that bag, because otherwise if you want a beer, you'll have to go out again."

"Oh, it's in the bag all right. Plus some other stuff."

Daniel followed him into the kitchen. "Such as?"

"Sandwiches from that deli you like. Cookies from my mom. And microwavable popcorn."

"Um, how long are you planning to stay?"

"Until I'm not bored anymore."

"That sounds as though it might take a while."

"Well, you'll just have to entertain me, Daniel." They smiled at each other across the top of the brown grocery bag, and then Jack started hauling things out of it. He'd even bought Mexican beer, out of consideration for Daniel's tastes. Daniel smiled appreciatively at the bottle and started rooting around a drawer for a church key to pop off the cap.

They settled on the couch again, Jack flipping through the channels too fast for Daniel to register what was playing. He ate his sandwich happily; his earlier dinner had been too small after missing breakfast and only a snack with Sam at midday. "Crap," Jack muttered, and tossed aside the remote. "Springsteen was right."

"Fifty-seven channels? Yeah. There're books and journals, though, and I have some videos."

Jack perked up. "Yeah? Anything good? Where are they?" Daniel pointed toward the bookcase next to the television and Jack hunkered down, groaning a little, to study the stack of purchased and home-taped videos that constituted Daniel's collection. "Alien? You have Alien?"

"I'll have you know that's a classic. Gothic setting, Gnostic sensibility, and great special effects."

Jack stared at him. "Gnostic sensibility? No, don't explain." He popped it into the VCR and fastforwarded through the FBI warning; Daniel smiled as the familiar eerie sound of the opening credits swelled.

"You'll like it," he promised, and went back to his journal article, sipping his beer, and keeping an eye on Jack.

"Oh, yuck," Jack murmured at the chest-bursting scene. Daniel's journal was forgotten; he leaned forward on his knees, staring at the TV screen.

"I read where the director surprised them with all the mess. It was fish blood and guts."

"Eeuww. I hope they got paid well that day."

"I thought you liked fish."

"Not exploding on me." He looked at Daniel. "How many times have you seen this?"

"I told you, Jack; it's a classic."

"Hmph."

Daniel was in the kitchen, getting them another beer, when Jack called out, "Oh, man, Yaphet Kotto bought it! I love him."

"Yeah. But the cat's okay."

"Carter'd be pleased."

"Jonesy looks like Schroedinger; don't you think?"

"Shh."

Much later, Jack lay sprawled across the couch, crowding Daniel into a comfortable corner. "Hey, hey. Now I know why you like this movie. Sigourney's got a nice ass."

"I refuse to comment."

"Refuse to incriminate yourself you mean."

"So, are you glad you watched it?"

"Yeah, it was okay." Jack stretched, and looked at Daniel, a half-smile on his face. "You have hidden depths, Doctor Jackson."

Daniel shrugged, but felt himself blush slightly. "I just recognize quality when I see it."

Jack raised his eyebrows but didn't respond. He stretched again and said, "I should go."

"I thought you were going fishing this weekend."

"Nobody to go with."

"You didn't ask me."

"I'm a colonel, not an idiot."

"Why don't you go by yourself?"

Jack sat up a bit on the couch, but relaxed his head and neck against the top of it, and studied Daniel. "I used to. I think." He stopped, and Daniel raised his eyebrows encouragingly. "I think I got over wanting to be alone."

Daniel bit his lip. He knew what that was like. It had been nearly impossible for him to get used to being alone after Sha'uri. "Yeah," he murmured.

"Hey. I'm sorry."

"No, no. It's okay. I know what you mean."

"Yeah. You would." He stared a Daniel for a few seconds, as if wanting to say something, and then rose. "Well. I should go. Listen, thanks. I had a good time."

"Me, too, Jack. I'm glad you came over."

"Even uninvited?"

"You know, The Uninvited is a really good scary movie. I could rent it and we could watch it tomorrow."

"Really?" Jack looked almost stunned. "Yeah, I mean. I was gonna work in the yard in the morning, and I've got a couple errands to run. I could pick up the tape if you like. It's that Clint Eastwood one, right?"

"No, that's Unforgiven. The Uninvited is an old one, hard to find, with Ray Milland and Ruth Hussey. I'll get it. But if you want to pick up some food or something, we could have dinner together. Let me give you some money . . ."

"No, no. My treat. Yeah. I'll, uh, I'll come over." He hesitated, and then said, "What time?"

Don't go, Daniel thought, and then blushed. "Whenever you want. Early. I was just gonna do laundry and read."

"Seven?"

"Six."

"Six. Okay." They stared at each other again for a few more awkward seconds, and then Jack moved toward the door. "Tomorrow at six. The Uninvited. And you can't make any jokes."

"I never do."

Jack gave him a suspicious look, but then opened the door. "Bye, Daniel. Thanks."

"Thank you, Jack."

And then he was gone, leaving Daniel to clean up after him. Bemused, he showered and went to bed. As he fell asleep, he remembered watching Jack's reflection in the monitor.

Daniel's phone woke him up around four thirty the next morning. "Lo," he answered groggily, wondering where he'd left his glasses.

"I'll be there to pick you up in thirty minutes."

"Jack?" But he'd hung up. Daniel rolled out of bed, nearly falling to his knees, and staggered into the bathroom. He was half-dressed by the time Jack arrived carrying coffee and danish.

"No movie tonight," Jack said mournfully, but Daniel could tell he was tense. Before he could ask what was going on, Jack said, " Come on, I'll tell you in the truck." He grabbed his coat and followed Jack and the smell of coffee into the elevator, where Jack finally handed him a cup. "Hammond called. SG-11's in trouble. One guy -- Wilson? Lewis? I always get those two confused -- was able to dial home and ask for help. They're sending us and the Marines in."

"The Marines?" Daniel felt sluggish, two steps behind Jack literally and figuratively as he followed him to the truck, parked crookedly on the street. As always, it was strange to be out in the city so late, or rather so early. The silence, for one thing, and their breaths puffing out whitely. The eerie gleam of streetlights, straight as a ruler, leading them out of Daniel's part of town and to the winding road up to the mountain. An alien world.

"Yeah. It's ugly, Danny." Jack sipped his coffee, driving one-handed, speeding a bit. He sighed, and Daniel thought he repeated the word "ugly" under his breath.

"It's Lewis," Daniel said at last. "Kevin Lewis. He's a lieutenant."

Jack glanced at him, then back at the road. "Thanks. I'll remember now."

Although it was still dark in Colorado Springs when they left the gateroom, they stepped out under a sky the color of buttermilk; Daniel immediately clipped on his sunglasses to mitigate the glare.

The Marines spread out in a pattern that Daniel had observed before and assumed was designed to offer them some protection, but there was nothing to protect them from. The scrubby plain they were on was empty of any living creatures. Just the stargate, the DHD, and a lot of dirt.

Jack signaled they were to move out, and Daniel noticed that he and Teal'c were carefully observing prints in the heavily trodden earth. No one spoke. He carried his P90 up, safety on, as Jack had taught him, and his throat was dry and tight.

Then Jack signaled again and they began following Teal'c, who was clearly following some trail Daniel couldn't make out. He felt supernumerary, and feared he'd get in the way, so he stayed sharp -- frosty, Jack always called it -- and watched the others carefully. Sam in particular; she was a good role model for him, better than Jack, really, because she was more likely to give others the benefit of the doubt.

To his left, one of the Marines suddenly took off and then knelt. Still silent, he dropped his pack and pulled out a med kit; Daniel realized he was kneeling at the side of someone dressed in SGC gear. Well, he could help, he knew, and trotted over to them, crouching on the other side of the body. It was Captain Hertzberg, he saw. His short blond hair was matted with blood and dirt, and one side of his face was spotted with blood. Blowback, Daniel thought it was called; someone had been shot very near the captain.

The Marine, whose nametag read Harrap, whispered, "He's still alive," so Daniel carefully set aside his weapon and helped him peel off Hertzberg's jacket. Harrap gently inserted an IV needle and held up a bag of fluid; saline, Daniel assumed. He handed the bag to Daniel, who held it about shoulder high, and then Harrap gave the captain a shot of something. An antiobiotic, no doubt.

Daniel touched the captain's neck; his pulse was fast but strong. At his touch, Hertzberg opened his eyes. "Hey," Daniel whispered, bending nearer.

"Doctor Jackson?" Hertzberg whispered, and Daniel saw that the pupils of his eyes were different sizes. He gestured to Harrap, who nodded.

"Yes, Captain. We're going to take you home now."

"My team. They took them."

"Who?"

The captain closed his eyes and shook his head. "They took them," he whispered again, barely audibly.

Harrap took the bag back from Daniel and said, "Tell the colonel." Daniel turned and saw Jack was about fifty yards away, standing next to Teal'c, staring at the ground. "Go," Harrap urged him. "We'll be all right." He took off, running lightly, his body bent nearly in half.

Jack looked up and their eyes met; Daniel felt a flood of relief rush through him, as if simply being near Jack were protection enough, something he knew wasn't true. "Daniel. Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," he husked out, breathless more from fear than the run. "We found Captain Hertzberg. Harrap's with him. He said something took his team. I think he has a concussion."

Jack nodded, and looked at Teal'c, who pointed ahead of them. "Stay with us, Daniel," Jack said, as if Daniel would ever consider doing anything else.

They continued along, stopping periodically while Teal'c and Jack studied the trail. The three Marines surrounded them; Teal'c was on point, with Jack close behind, then Daniel, and finally Sam. Daniel was sweating under the bizarrely-colored sky, and thought the air smelt nasty. Industrial. Yet he saw no sign of anything, just the apparently endless dusty plain.

He watched Jack closely, admiring how he silently communicated with Teal'c; clearly, they operated on another level entirely from how he and Jack did, on some pared-down level of necessity and survival. Daniel thought his and Jack's tendency to speak in unison came from the resonance of their feelings about others -- the Tollan, the Tok'ra, and especially the Goa'uld. But Teal'c and Jack's behavior was based in action. They were brothers-in-arms, he suddenly thought, and glanced behind him, at Sam. Sweat matted the curls on her forehead and a light coating of dust covered her entirely, yet she strode on, alert and ready. Brothers- and sisters-in-arms.

He felt his muscles relax a bit, comforted by the integrity of his teammates. If anyone could find SG-11, they would. He might be along only because he was a member of SG-1, but he would do everything he could, everything that Jack and Sam and Teal'c had patiently taught him, to help recover the other team.

The shrubby bushes grew thicker and taller as they walked, though no less scruffy. Daniel found himself walking very close to Jack as they wound their way through the natural maze, pushing through the scratchy leaves. Even he could see the trail now; many branches were broken or bent. Teal'c stopped suddenly, and Daniel walked into Jack's pack before he realized that Jack had stopped, too. Jack didn't turn around, but put out one hand and lightly touched Daniel, right in the center of his chest. Daniel froze, staying in physical contact with him. He followed the direction of Teal'c's gaze and saw what had to be blood, matted on a broken branch, low to the ground. He felt a little dizzy and leaned more heavily into Jack's hand. When they moved out again, he slipped his fingers under one of the straps on Jack's pack. Jack never looked back.

Suddenly, Teal'c and Jack knelt, and the rest followed. Daniel let go of the strap and crawled forward, bumping his shoulder into Jack's. Ahead of them, he could see a person, dressed in SGC camo, lying on the ground, head at an odd and twisted angle. They remained motionless for nearly a minute. Daniel listened as hard as he could, but no one else seemed to be around.

At last, the Marines cautiously rose and began circling the body, moving nearly silently through the bushes. When they were ahead of them, one looked back at Jack and nodded, and SG-1 crept forward.

It was Lori Davies, a sociologist, the social scientist assigned to SG-11. Her left thigh was gashed open, a long ugly wound, her blood soaking her uniform; no doubt it had been her blood they'd seen earlier. Sam gently put her hand on Lori's chest, then sighed. "She's still alive," she whispered to Jack, who nodded.

"Stay with her. Get her stable. You, Maggaddino," and one of the Marines slipped back to them. "Help Major Carter get Davies back to the gate. Take Harrap and Captain Hertzberg back through. Tell Hammond we need reinforcements and a medical team." Maggaddino nodded, and gently straightened Lori's head so she lay flat on the ground. "Come on, Daniel," Jack added quietly, and Daniel followed him, staying close to the ground now, ducking beneath the bushes instead of pushing through them.

He twisted his head back to watch Lori and Sam disappear behind the scrub. He liked Lori; he hadn't recruited her, but she was a good addition. Patient and funny and really smart. He narrowly avoided getting slapped in the face from a branch of the scratchy bushes when he turned his head back to watch Jack sidling through the undergrowth. His head was also twisted back; he was watching Daniel.

They were crawling through the thicket when they reached the encampment about twenty minutes later. Two Marines, neither of whom Daniel knew, Teal'c, Jack, and himself. Jack and Teal'c studied the scene silently, then Jack drew a diagram on the dusty ground. Teal'c made a change, and the two Marines nodded.

Daniel peered through the leaves at the group ahead of them. Not many, really, but fierce looking in a pre-literate way, he thought. Their clothing seemed to be made of skins and hides, rather than woven, and their hair was wild and tangled. They had pale skin, although very dirty. He counted nine people, plus the remaining two members of SG-11. Lewis was there, blood smeared on his face, a large bruise swelling one eye shut, and he clamped his left arm tightly across his chest; Daniel was certain it was broken. The fourth member, a man Daniel recognized but didn't know, sat next to Lewis, his arms around Lewis as if to protect him. He looked angry and frightened, and Daniel saw tear tracks smudging the dirt on his face. Other than that, he looked unharmed.

He looked again at his own group. Apparently it was nine against four, five if you counted Daniel, which he wasn't sure he should, and six if he counted the last members of SG-11. He wondered what Jack would have him do.

As he watched, he saw Lewis lean his head against the other man's shoulder, who spoke softly to him. Comforting him, Daniel thought. His arms tightened around Lewis, and he slowly changed position so his legs were actually wrapped around Lewis' hips and legs. Lewis sighed heavily and closed his eyes, then turned his head so his face was pressed against his friend's chest. One of the strangers looked at them, said something in a language Daniel didn't recognize, and all the others looked up. Daniel wished he knew who the man comforting Lewis was; he admired how he raised his head defiantly and looked right back at the very hostile natives. Probably not the wisest gesture to make, the anthropologist in Daniel thought, but he admired him in the same way he admired Jack's ill-thought-out defiance in similar circumstances.

And he knew that Jack was watching, drawing his own conclusions, and coming to a similar decision. He knew that Jack would never permit these men to be left behind, to be hurt anymore. Lewis had somehow managed to call for help and had obviously suffered for it; his friend was caring for Lewis despite the situation. Good men, Daniel heard Jack say in his head, and he silently agreed.

The Marines moved out, so quietly that Daniel was impressed. They slithered on their bellies beneath the bushes, slowly disappearing from his sight. Teal'c gave Jack a long, measured look and then he, too, moved noiselessly away. Surrounding the group before them, Daniel assumed. He looked to Jack.

Jack leaned over and put his hand on Daniel's neck, then pulled his head close to Jack's mouth. "We're gonna give 'em a little diversion," he breathed. "Then we'll fire into the air, try to frighten them away."

Daniel nodded. Jack stared into his eyes and then whispered, "Don't get between us and them." He hesitated and then added, "Don't get hurt, Danny." Daniel shook his head. "Okay. I need you to stand up and speak to them, give 'em your usual spiel. Can you do that? I'll be right here, kneeling next to you."

Daniel understood. He would be the diversion. He swallowed and at last whispered, "Don't hurt Lewis and the other man."

Jack's mouth twitched, as if he nearly smiled. "That's the goal." They stared at each other, and Daniel realized Jack's hand was still on his neck, warm and comforting. He took a deep breath, then another. Jack did smile then, and for an instant, Daniel wanted to hug him goodbye. Then Jack dropped his hand and crawled into position, his P90 ready. Daniel again lay aside his weapon, making sure it was still set to safety. Jack glanced at his chronometer and looked back at Daniel. "Now," he mouthed.

Daniel was shaking, but he instantly stood, spreading his hands in what he hoped was a universal gesture indicating harmlessness. "Hello," he called, and was pleased to hear his voice was steady. "We are peaceful travelers from another world, come to learn about your culture."

The nine men leapt to their feet, brandishing clubs and knives and adzes. The man holding Lewis fell backwards, pulling Lewis with him so they lay supine and out of the way. And in the same instant, Jack began firing his weapon into the air, rising to stand in front of Daniel as he did.

Daniel realized instantly what was wrong with Jack's plan. These people had no understanding of the weapons the SGC team possessed. They knew nothing more than the knives and clubs they carried. Not even an arrow. They had no way to know that the club Jack was brandishing was capable of firing nine hundred rounds per minute. They wouldn't even know that a weapon could injure them if held more than an arm's length away.

Two of the nine leapt nearly on top of Lewis and his defender, who punched one of them flat on his back, an impressive blow that earned him a kick in the ribs from the other. His attacker stood above him, smiling down, knife held casually. Daniel saw Jack swing his weapon around and suddenly there were only eight natives.

Everything happens so slowly, Daniel thought, and so _loudly_. The natives were yelling, the Marines were yelling, Jack was yelling, but Daniel couldn't understand a word any of them was saying. He watched one man rush toward Teal'c, thrusting his knife threateningly at him. Teal'c let him come within range and then swung his staff weapon so it caught him in the knees and neatly flipped him on his back. Another man rushed to the downed native's defense, carrying an adz and screaming imprecations. He drew back his arm, to throw the weapon, Daniel thought, but suddenly jerked backwards, blood flying from his body.

They won't learn, Daniel knew. He knelt behind Jack and watched in horror as more bodies danced and exploded before him. There was no time for them to learn, there was no way to teach them except by their death. As suddenly as it began, it stopped. The silence was even deeper after the explosions.

"Let's get out of here," Jack ordered, and without another word, the SGC team moved. "Colonel Jack O'Neill," he introduced himself to the two men still lying on the ground.

"Lieutenant Robertson Kelso, and Lieutenant Kevin Lewis," the one who'd been kicked said, and began to sit up, holding his side, carefully helping Lewis up. Daniel was still behind Jack; he moved to one side to help.

"Kevin, hey," he murmured, and Lewis looked up at him.

"Daniel," he whispered. "You guys came."

"Of course, of course," he said, and pulled a med kit out from Jack's pack. Jack watched them for a moment and then, apparently confident that Kelso and Daniel had it under control, rose and joined the others examining the bodies of the natives.

"Can you walk?" Jack asked Lewis when his arm was bound, and Lewis nodded. "Okay, we're outta here."

When Kevin was on his feet, Daniel retrieved his P90, clipping it to the strap around his neck, feeling self-conscious in front of the Marines. Then they started back, moving quickly now, not trying to hide themselves, shoving the bushes out of their way. They were all thickly coated with dust and Daniel felt the familiar sneezes building in the back of his nose and throat. But they were going home, they were all right, and Kevin would be okay, so it didn't matter.

Almost immediately they ran into their reinforcements, including two nurses from the infirmary who took charge of Lewis. "How are the others?" Daniel asked them, and Sandy Holstein smiled up at him. "Captain Hertzberg will be okay. Doctor Davies will be out of commission for a while; she's in surgery for her leg injury. But she'll live, Daniel." Then she returned her attention to Lewis.

They were home in thirty more minutes.

From where he stood waiting for them at the foot of the ramp in the gateroom, watching the wounded man carried home, General Hammond said, "Colonel, unless you can give me a good reason, I'm having that address struck from the computer."

"No, sir. It was a shit hole. The level of technology was primitive, and the natives definitely hostile."

"Doctor Jackson?"

For a few seconds, Daniel hesitated. But he saw Lewis looking at him as they strapped him to a gurney, and felt Jack's heavy gaze on him. "I concur, General," he finally said. Hammond gave him an intense look, and he knew he'd be asked to explain his hesitation later, but at last Hammond said, "To the infirmary with all of you. And then, I think, a shower."

Sam was waiting for them in the infirmary; she had showered recently, her hair still dripping. "Daniel! Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Sam." He resisted his urge to hug her, since he was still filthy, but gave her his best smile. He saw her falter and knew he'd put a bit too much into it; well, he'd never been good at keeping secrets from Sam. And in fact, he wanted to talk to her about what had happened. "Later," he promised, and she nodded, her eyes sad. "How is Kevin?"

"His arm is broken in two places," she said, turning to look behind at the controlled chaos behind her, "and one of his ribs was fractured. Oh, Daniel." She looked up at him and, despite how dirty he was, he took her hand. "He might lose the sight in that one eye."

Daniel dropped his head back, feeling the tight muscles pull. "God," he whispered. "Does anyone know why?" She shook her head. They held hands a minute more, and then he was called to a cubicle and the examination started. Jack, he saw, was already half undressed, blood pressure cuff on his arm; he was watching Daniel thoughtfully.

Daniel was in the shower, letting the rush of hot water wash away as much of the dirt and memories as he could, when Jack arrived. He was as aware of Jack's presence as if he were another sun rising to warm him, and he felt himself start to relax. "We're stood down after the debriefing," Jack told him, but Daniel remained silent. He felt hungry and sleepy and wired.

He was dressing when Jack emerged from the showers, drying himself. "How are you?" Daniel asked. Jack shrugged.

"Hungry," he said, and Daniel's stomach growled in sympathy. Jack smiled at him. "I'll buy you lunch after the briefing," he said, and Daniel smiled back. "How are you, Daniel? I know you don't approve of that sort of thing."

Daniel looked down at his boots, tugging them on. "It's not my approval you need, Jack," he said finally.

"Pretend it is," Jack said, surprising him.

He finished pulling on his boots and carefully knotted them before looking up. "I'll be okay," he finally answered. "Intellectually, I realize there wasn't much choice. Three of the four members of SG-11 were injured, and there were too many of the others. I didn't recognize the language, so we couldn't negotiate. And they really hurt Kevin. He might be blind in one eye."

Jack studied him, and Daniel felt himself blush. He remained sitting on the bench, waiting for Jack, but when Jack finished dressing, he seated himself next to Daniel, turning to face him. "Do you hate me? For killing them in cold blood?"

Daniel was shocked that Jack would ask him that. He felt his blush return, and looked away. Jack put his hand on Daniel's shoulder, and very gently shook him. Without looking at him, Daniel just said, "Jack."

"I killed those people. Nine sentient beings."

Daniel honestly didn't know what to say. He stared at the tile, noticing again what an ugly pattern it was, while he thought about Jack's question. He said slowly, "Over the years, I've learned to trust you." He finally looked at Jack. "You're not the same person who was going to blow up Kasuf's village on Abydos, Jack. I know that. You're a good person. If you believed we had to kill them to get, uh, to extract SG-11, I trust you."

They continued to look at each other for a few seconds more, and then Jack relaxed a bit. "You didn't really answer my question."

Daniel couldn't help himself; he smiled at Jack. "No. I don't hate you."

Jack squeezed his shoulder, then lightly slapped his back. "Let's get this briefing over. Where do you want to go to breakfast?"

"Anywhere off base."

"Ditto."

"Jack," Daniel asked in the elevator down to Hammond's briefing room, "Do you still want to come over tonight? It's okay. We didn't get enough sleep."

"Am I still invited? To see The Uninvited?"

Daniel smiled shyly. "Yeah. Sure."

In fact, they spent much of the day together. Jack took him to some specialty place for a very late breakfast of eggs benedict gooey with hollandaise sauce. Since they drove right by the video store Daniel liked, they stopped and picked up The Uninvited as well as an old western Jack was pleased to find, My Darling Clementine. Then Jack dropped him off, promising to be back in a couple hours with dinner. Daniel got two loads of laundry done and had settled back down to the translation before he returned bearing three pizza boxes and two six-packs of an obscure Czech pilsner Daniel liked.

"Where the hell did you find this?"

"Special ordered it at the Liquor Barn. Turns out one of the owners is really into beer, so he got himself some, too. If he likes it, he'll keep some in inventory for you."

"Wow, Jack." Daniel was flattered that Jack would remember this. "Thank you. I like this stuff so much better than --"

"Than American beer," Jack finished in unison. "Yeah, I know; I've heard that song before, Doctor Jackson. So, which movie you wanna watch first?"

"Well, you're the guest, so Clementine."

"But you originally invited me over to see Uninvited."

They stared at each other, then Daniel took the beer into the kitchen and loaded most of it into his refrigerator, opening two. When he returned he said, "You're my guest. You decide."

Jack took a long sip of the pilsner, Daniel watching his mouth and throat before realizing what he was doing and taking a quick gulp himself. "Uninvited," Jack finally said, and Daniel smiled.

"Thank you."

"Let's eat while the pizza's hot."

Jack didn't seem to find The Uninvited as compelling as Daniel remembered it to be, and his agitation was catching. When Ray Milland was playing piano in the haunted room, Jack began flipping through the files on Daniel's coffee table. "What's this?" he asked, holding out a screen cap from one of the many videos Daniel had made on P3X-931, this of one of the statues from outside the temple.

"Oh my god," Daniel said, setting his beer down so abruptly he had to catch it. "That's it, Jack. They're mudras, gestures." He scrabbled through the other papers, pulling up photos of an interior wall that had painted on it the words he and Teal'c had been translating. "See? The, the pattern of the words here? And compare it to the gesture in that picture."

Jack's dark eyes flicked back and forth, and then he slowly nodded. "So these are directions on how to hold your hands and body?"

"I think so. I think it's both script and choreography. See," and he stood, feeling foolish, but it seemed important that he explain this. "The words are spaced like this," and he held both hands in front of his chest, the tips of his index fingers and thumbs touching. "And the words say something like, 'The gesture of teaching, to open one's mind.' No, not open. To open to light? To lighten?" He sat back down and began pulling out other screen caps. "We need to go back. I need to get better pictures of these statues. I didn't realize they were related to the graffiti." He looked up at Jack, who smiled at him.

"What's a mudra, anyway?"

"It's a Sanskrit word for hand and body gestures used in religious ceremonies and dances. Some cultures believe them to be very powerful."

"And you think these, these mudras are important enough to return to P3X-931?" Daniel just stared at him entreatingly. "Write up a proposal, Daniel. You know the routine by now."

"Yes, but Jack --"

"Daniel." They stared into each other's eyes, and then Daniel sighed and sat back.

"Okay. Yes, sir, Colonel, sir."

"Bite me."

"You're not interested in this movie. Let's watch Clementine."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. You deserve a reward."

"Cool."

Daniel watched the movie, but he simultaneously drafted in his head a proposal to persuade Hammond and Jack to let SG-1 return to the planet where they'd found the wall writing and the statues. He remembered what he'd translated already: compassion. Fearlessness. Warding off evil. Perhaps they played into fighting off the Goa'uld on that planet. Or perhaps he could word the proposal so it would sound as though they did.

He looked up in time for the church dance sequence, and glanced over at Jack, who was sound asleep, slumped against the arm of the couch. He looked exhausted, and Daniel realized they'd been up since four thirty. Even earlier, for Jack. And it had been a bad day for them both.

He clicked off the VCR and TV, and began cleaning up the empty pizza boxes and rinsing the empties. He washed his face and brushed his teeth, then pulled on the sweats he wore to bed on chilly nights. At last he returned to the living room, where Jack slept on. He'd turned a bit in his sleep, nuzzling a throw pillow, and he looked cold to Daniel.

Daniel fetched two blankets and a pillow, then sat on the ottoman and unlaced Jack's boots. He was trying to ease them off when Jack woke and nearly kicked him in the chin. "Hey," he protested. "It's just me."

"Sorry," Jack muttered, still more than half asleep, but he let Daniel remove the boots and even undo his belt and unbutton his trousers. Daniel stood and lifted Jack's long legs onto the couch and then covered him with the blankets. "Thanks," Jack mumbled.

Still bent over at the waist, one hand smoothing the blanket, the other on Jack's shoulder, Daniel stared at him. He stroked Jack's side beneath the blanket, feeling the muscles and bone of the man. "Good night," he whispered. "Sleep tight." Jack sighed heavily and burrowed into the throw pillow, so Daniel sat the real pillow on the coffee table where he'd see if it he woke. He left a light on in the bathroom, and went to bed.

But Daniel was still too wired to sleep, so eventually he sat up and powered up his laptop. He was embarrassed to let anyone know that he actually slept with it next to him, just in case something occurred to him. As it had tonight. He began to write out the proposal he'd been drafting in his head.

The first draft was complete when he heard a noise and looked up to find Jack standing in the doorway of his bedroom. "You okay?" he whispered. Jack nodded.

"Had to pee, and saw the light. You?"

"Yeah. Working on that proposal."

"You should sleep."

"I can sleep tomorrow."

"Yeah, you can, but will you?"

"Go back to bed, Jack. I'll buy you breakfast in the morning."

"Lunch."

Daniel nodded, smiling shyly. Jack stood in the doorway a moment more, just a dark shape, a familiar and comforting shape, before disappearing into the other room. Daniel listened to him get settled on the couch again, and very quickly heard soft snores.

It was pleasant, he thought, to lie in bed and hear another person in his apartment. Normally, if one of them stayed over, he stayed at Jack's house, in the spare bedroom he'd used when he'd first returned from Abydos. Rarely did anyone stay in Daniel's apartment. But he liked it. Just knowing another person was nearby comforted him, and knowing it was his friend Jack brought him a quiet happiness.

He read the proposal once more, made a few changes, and then powered down the laptop and fell asleep listening to Jack in the other room.

He woke hearing his shower running and for a moment he let himself imagine that it was Sha'uri; she'd always risen earlier than he, to make him breakfast and tease him awake. But he knew it was Jack. Sha'uri had never lived on earth, had been so cruelly denied that opportunity. He sighed, and stretched and sat up, rubbing his eyes, and went into the kitchen to start the coffee dripping. He and Jack didn't speak when they passed in the hallway, Daniel anxiously heading to the bathroom and Jack to the kitchen, but lightly bumped shoulders. Only after Daniel had showered and had his first cup of coffee did he speak.

"You sleep okay?"

"Yeah, fine. Not bad, for a sofa."

"Yeah, it's pretty comfortable. I've slept on it plenty of times." Daniel felt himself blush and wondered why the knowledge that he and Jack had both slept on the same couch suddenly felt intimate.

"You promised me lunch."

"So I did. And it's nearly eleven. Where you wanna go?"

"The Apple Box."

"Excuse me?"

"Some artsy-craftsy place Carter took Cassandra to for a birthday breakfast. You were off-world for her birthday, remember?"

"So I was. Okay. After we finish the coffee."

Without discussing it, Daniel realized they were planning to spend their Sunday together. At the Apple Box, they had enormous Dutch pancakes filled with sliced, sauteed apples, then they returned the videos and did some shopping for dinner. Back at his apartment, he revised the proposal to return to P3X-931 while Jack fixed the door to his front closet that had started sticking, and then replaced all the batteries in his smoke alarms.

After dinner, Jack gathered his things and stood in the doorway, Daniel leaning against the door jamb. "Thank you," he told Jack, and he meant for a lot more than the batteries.

"You're welcome," was all Jack said. For a moment, Daniel wanted to hug him goodbye, as if he were leaving on some long and distant journey, and he saw Jack make an abortive gesture as if he, too, were moved by the same impulse. That reminded him of the mudras he'd seen and he placed his fingers in the position that meant "compassion." Jack stared at his hands and then awkwardly copied the position. Daniel felt a pulse of something hit him, roll through him, and for an instant the world fell away and he focused utterly on Jack mirroring his position. He felt -- soothed. That was the only word for it. He sighed, and heard Jack sigh deeply, too.

Not moving his hands, Jack asked him, "Think you'll be able to sleep tonight?"

"Yeah, I do. You?"

"Yeah." For a heartbeat more they held their pose in the mudra of compassion, and then simultaneously relaxed. Jack smiled at Daniel, and sauntered down the hallway, jacket in hand. Daniel watched until he got on the elevator before shutting the front door.

Compassion. From the Middle English _pacient_, descending from Middle French, descending from Latin _patiens_, from the present participle of _pati_, to suffer; perhaps akin to the Greek _pema_, suffering. Compassion. With passion. _With suffering_.

The words spiraled in his head like strands of DNA as he lay down to sleep, thinking of Jack and himself as they mirrored the mudra. Compassion.

Two days later, Daniel stood in Hammond's briefing room explaining his desire to return to the planet where they'd found the painted wall and dancing statues. "It's a fascinating language," he said. "As in Navajo, the verbs appear to be marked according to the shape of an object handled or, as in this phrase, according to the gesture made." From the look on Hammond's face, he knew the general wanted him to cut to the chase. "From these pictographs, I believe the Goa'uld invaded this culture, but were somehow warded off."

"With hand gestures," Jack said, ever the straight man.

"In essence, yes. I'm sure there's more," he hastened, trying to avert interruptions, "and that's one of the most important reasons we need to go back. Spend some time investigating this. Learn exactly how the Goa'uld were expelled."

The argument was, he knew, unanswerable. SG-1 would be sent back. Yet for a few seconds he hung in free-fall, waiting for the general's decision. Then Hammond smiled. "Colonel?"

"Hell, yeah. If we can do some hand-jive and scare off the Goa'uld, I'm all for it."

Hammond's chest bounced with a silent laugh, and he nodded. "You have a go. Colonel, I'll need your plans."

"I'm on it, sir." Jack stood, and winked at Daniel. "On your desk tomorrow morning."

"Very good. Dismissed."

"Nice job, Daniel," Sam told him, smiling up at him as they walked back to his office. "How serious are you?"

"I'm always serious," he assured her, and she rolled her eyes. "No, really. I think there might be something important here."

"Daniel Jackson, Major Carter. I have never heard of these people," Teal'c said, and Daniel and Sam turned to watch him.

"Maybe that's because they kicked the Goa'uld off their world so long ago?" Sam ventured. Teal'c raised an eyebrow, which Daniel rapidly translated into Maybe, it isn't the stupidest idea I've ever heard, and was heartened. "Daniel," Sam added in a different voice. "Come to my office for a few minutes, okay?" He stared at her, and remembered their conversation in the infirmary a few days ago. She was clearly in Big Sister Mode, he thought, and nodded.

"I will be sitting kel-no-reem," Teal'c told them, obviously picking up on Sam's desire to be alone with Daniel. "Daniel Jackson. You will come to see me later this afternoon."

Great, Daniel thought. Big Sister _and_ Very Big Brother. "Sure, Teal'c," he promised. "See you soon."

As they walked to Sam's office, he told her, "I saw Janet this morning. She says that Kevin won't physically lose his eye, and he won't be completely blind, but he may never get all his vision back."

"Oh, god. I'm so sorry."

"What will happen to him, Sam? Will they kick him out of the Air Force?"

"No, of course not, although he may want to leave. He could take a disability retirement. But if he wants to stay, he'll be reassigned."

"No more gate travel."

"No. No more gate travel." She unlocked her door and flicked on the lights. "Does he know why they were taken?"

"Not really. No common language, you know. They were doing the usual reconnaissance, looking for evidence of either the Goa'uld or a society with technology we might trade for, when a group of natives attacked them. Captain Hertzberg killed a couple, as did Lieutenant Kelso. Lori and Kevin tried to get back to the DHD. Well, Kevin made it, but they beat him senseless. Lieutenant Kelso carried him."

"Jesus."

"Yeah."

"Daniel," she said, and he sat down, bracing his feet on the struts of the chair. She leaned against her desk and studied him. "You understand why we killed them?"

"Yes. Really, Sam. I do. They didn't recognize our weapons _as_ weapon. Threatening them didn't work; I saw that. And they'd already injured Captain Hertzberg, Kevin, and Lori. They would have killed Kevin and Lieutenant Kelso if we hadn't intervened, I'm sure of it."

She didn't say anything, but he felt as observed as a primate in a zoo. At last she said, "Colonel O'Neill is worried about you."

"He told you that?"

"He doesn't have to tell me that. I can tell. He's watching you."

Daniel blushed. "He's always watching me. Us. He always watches out for his team. That's why he's so good at what he does." She didn't say anything, so he changed the subject. "On that planet, I smelled something. The only description I can come up with is 'industrial.' Machiney. Maybe oil? Did you smell it?"

She shook her head. "You think there was technology there, something beyond those clubs they carried?" He shrugged. "Do you think we should go back?"

Well, that was the question, wasn't it. "I don't know," he finally said. "I just, maybe there were pools of oil or something."

She raised her eyebrows. "That would be worth going back for, especially these days. Crude oil." She sighed. "I'll let the colonel know. We could send a UAV through; check it out a bit more."

He stood, a little anxious to be out of her concerned presence. "Thanks, Sam. I'm gonna go see Teal'c now."

"Daniel." He turned back from the door. "Go see Colonel O'Neill, too, okay?" After a few seconds, he nodded.

Teal'c was, Daniel could tell, pleased to see him as he seated himself cross-legged among all the candles. "You will meditate with me?" Teal'c asked.

Daniel closed his eyes. His favorite mantra was "peace," and he let the idea sink into him, gently turning his churning thoughts back to it. Like herding cats, he thought, and smiled to himself. The scent of the beeswax was yet another familiar comfort; he'd sat with Teal'c many times, on many worlds, and found solace in his presence. Teal'c would, he knew with absolutely certainty, die for him. Friendship that strong had been rare in Daniel's experience and he basked in it. He was pretty sure Teal'c loved him, too, and certainly worried about him. He was only a third of Teal'c's age, just a child to him, so naturally his parental and protective instincts were engaged by Daniel.

But Daniel thought it was more than that. It was their years of shared experience that somehow, impossibly, had bonded them. He remembered that Teal'c had advised him to meditate on the word "love." His eyes popped open at the thought, and he studied Teal'c, so calm and still, before closing his eyes again, taking a deep breath.

Love, he thought. Love. From the Old English word _lufu_, akin to the Old English word _leof_ or dear, from the Latin _lubere_, to please.

When he finally opened his eyes, Teal'c was studying him, not unlike how Sam had studied him earlier. "I'm okay," he said, his voice deeper than usual.

"Are you, Daniel Jackson."

"I promise."

Teal'c's face moved in a way Daniel knew was a fond and gentle smile. "I will hold you to that promise." Then Teal'c rose and helped Daniel up. "You will see O'Neill now," he told him firmly, and Daniel nodded.

"Thank you, Teal'c," he said, and patted Teal'c's arm, feeling as though he were patting a mountain.

Jack was sitting in his office, a pencil between his teeth, slumped over and staring into a computer monitor. "Oh, just the man I need," he said, spitting out the pencil when he saw Daniel. "Make this thing give me back my report, okay?"

"Okay." He leaned over Jack's shoulder and entered a few keystrokes; there was the missing report, hiding in the menu bar at the bottom of the screen.

"Shit," Jack grumbled. "These things make me feel stupid."

"You're not stupid, Jack," Daniel said firmly, and Jack grinned over his shoulder at him.

"Well, you would know. Listen. Siddown. Why'd you hesitate when Hammond asked if we should knock that planet's address out of the computer?"

"I told Sam I thought I smelled something. Maybe oil? I'm not sure. She's going to ask you if she can send a UAV back."

"Hunh." Jack didn't look persuaded.

"Jack, if I'm right, there might be a technologically advanced society there. Maybe the natives we saw were like, I dunno, Neanderthal men, existing at the same time as Homo erectus."

"Heh. He said 'erectus.'"

"Or maybe there are pools of oil just lying around on the surface. We could pump crude and bring it home. Not have to rely on other countries for it."

Jack's enormous F-250 guaranteed he'd be interested in that, Daniel knew, but felt no guilt when Jack sat up straighter and nodded. "Okay. I'll approve the UAV. But no more recon visits until we know a helluva lot more."

"Okay." Daniel was happy; he'd said what he wanted to, and achieved Sam's goal.

"You going home now?"

"Yeah." He looked suspiciously at Jack. "Why?"

"I got a better suggestion." Jack smiled mischievously up at him. "Let's get Carter and Teal'c."

Jack bullied them into going out for dinner, and then insisted they go bowling. Daniel didn't know how to bowl or particularly want to spend an evening in a bowling alley, watching strangers in odd shirts drink beer and listening to the thunk of falling pins. But watching Teal'c put on the ugly, clunky shoes, and then watching Jack try to teach Teal'c how to bowl was worth it. Daniel sat back in the uncomfortable plastic bench, a tasteless American beer in his hand, and observed. Sam returned with an extra large order of onion rings and sat down next to him.

"Now there's a sight I never thought I'd see," she said, staring in disbelief at Jack and Teal'c.

"Yeah. In the annals of intergalactic history, this has got to down as a footnote somewhere."

She laughed. "You write the footnote, Daniel, and I'll hide it in SGC's mainframe. It'll be a special kind of Easter egg." He looked at her, puzzled. "You know, a little secret you stumble across when you're playing with your computer. Like finding a picture of the programmers, or having it play a song if you hit a certain keystroke."

"Whatever you want," he promised her, and turned his attention back to the performance being enacted before them.

"You okay, Daniel?" she asked shyly, and he smiled at her.

"I am, Sam." He looked up in time to see Jack smile at them, then slap Teal'c on the back.

"Come on, big guy," he said. "Just give it one try. You can do this."

"I do not understand the purpose of this sport."

"The purpose is to drink beer and hang with your friends."

"I do not drink beer. I already 'hang' with my friends."

Jack rolled his eyes, playing to his audience, Daniel knew. "Just once, Teal'c? Please? Just one time?"

Teal'c stared down his nose at Jack, and then reluctantly accepted the ball. Without taking a step, he flung it straight down the lane, about two feet above the shiny flooring, where it smacked the pins so hard some of them bounced back out and onto lanes near them. "Just once," he said firmly, and marched back to where Sam and Daniel were staring at him in awe.

"Your turn, O'Neill," he said as he seated himself next to Sam, and Daniel recognized the set of his shoulders and jaw as indicating enormous satisfaction with himself. Jack's mouth was open in shock.

"Oh-kay," Jack finally said. "But I don't know how to score that."

"Jack," Daniel called to him. "Haven't you learned not to try to teach Teal'c things? Like swearing? Or bowling?"

Jack gave him an evil look, picked up the ball, and rolled it straight into the gutter. "Okay, that's it. We're going to a movie."

"Sorry, sir," Sam said, without any sincerity in her voice. "I need to wash my hair."

"Oh, man, have I heard _that_ excuse before."

"I need to sit kel-no-reem now, Major Carter. Would you return me to Cheyenne Mountain?"

"I would be happy to, Teal'c. Daniel? You need a lift anywhere?"

"No. I'll stay with Jack."

"Don't do me any favors," he said as he stuffed two onion rings into his mouth.

"Come on, Jack," Daniel said. "Bring the onion rings with you and let's turn in your shoes. Then you can take me home."

"No movie?"

Daniel just raised an eyebrow and stared at Jack's bowling shoes.

The drive back was quiet. Daniel was, he realized, exhausted. Dinner had been good, and he wouldn't have missed seeing Teal'c bowl for anything, but he was ready for bed. He sighed, and relaxed against the headrest. Jack seemed deep in thought, and Daniel didn't want to disturb him. He shut his eyes, just for a minute, and jumped when Jack touched his arm. They were outside his apartment building, the engine idling quietly. "Oh, god, I'm sorry."

"That's okay, Daniel. We probably shouldn't have gone out tonight," Jack said ruefully.

"No, no. I had a good time." Jack looked at him, his dark eyes unreadable in the dim glow of the streetlight. Impulsively, Daniel placed a hand on Jack's forearm. "I really did."

He saw Jack smile. "Thanks."

"Come up."

Jack shook his head. "We both need to sleep. It's late."

Suddenly Daniel didn't want Jack to leave. "I'll make coffee. We'll watch a movie. Don't go." He didn't want Jack to go home alone, and could tell that Jack was tempted.

At last, he shook his head. "Not tonight. We'll get to that movie one of these nights, though."

Daniel stared at him. What was happening? The thought of climbing out of Jack's truck and leaving him here in the cold night was nearly unbearable. Why shouldn't Jack go home? Why did it seem imperative that they stay together?

But he had no reasons to offer, not to himself and certainly not to Jack. After a long pause, he gently squeezed Jack's forearm, then unlocked the passenger door. "I'll, uh, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah."

"Thanks for dinner, Jack."

For a moment, he stood on the sidewalk, shivering as he stared into the dark interior. All he could see of Jack was the gleam of his eye, the curve of his cheek. Then he forced himself to slam the door shut. He raised one hand in farewell, and saw Jack nod before he slowly pulled away and drove off to his own solitary home.

Daniel stood on the sidewalk for many minutes, watching Jack's taillights disappear into the night, before he finally went home.

Daniel's proposal and Jack's plans were approved, of course, and finally SG-1 stepped out of the wormhole and back onto P3X-931, the planet where he'd found the painted walls and dancing statues. The stargate was nearby, which lent credence, Daniel thought, to his theory that this culture had known and fought off the Goa'uld; only a short walk away from the circle of statues and then the room -- temple? he wondered again -- with the graffiti.

This time, he and Sam videotaped everything, using the highest quality cameras and tape available. It was an eerie place; silent, except for the sound of a light wind moving around the statues, a soft soughing noise. Yet the tall evergreens circling them remained quiet and still.

Jack and Teal'c walked the perimeter, then Teal'c switched off with Sam, and then Sam with Jack. By now, Daniel was inside the room, which he'd decided definitely was a temple, maybe, and had set up brilliant lights at several angles. It looked like a movie set, he thought, and smiled at Jack watching him from the arched opening.

"You're happy," Jack said, and Daniel nodded.

"Doing what I want," he said. "Doesn't that make a person happy?"

Jack didn't answer, but Daniel was ready to start taking pictures now, and let it go, even though a part of his mind was wondering why hadn't Jack responded. After twenty minutes or so, he knelt, to study more closely the faded paintings near the dusty white flooring. "Jack," he called. "Can you set up one of the lights so I can see this better?" He heard the clatter of metal and then the brightness and angle of the lights changed. "Yeah, put it just behind me," he said, and lay down on the floor, letting the light fall over his shoulder onto the paintings.

"What is it?" Jack asked.

"I don't know. I need to get good pictures of it, though, and that's going to be hard. It's so faded. I think maybe this chamber flooded at one time." He took pictures from several angles, then brought another light over and took even more. Eventually, Jack's curiosity got the better of him and he crouched next to Daniel, one leg stuck out in a way that Daniel knew meant his knee was bothering him. Daniel knew better than to comment, though, and just pointed. "See, here. It's two people, I think. All the others are just one person."

"What, uh, mudras are they doing?"

Daniel shook his head. "It looks a little like one of the warding-off-of-evil ones, except done in unison. See," and he stood up, shaking out his legs. Jack rose more slowly. "Like this," and he took Jack's hands, shaping them as closely as he could to what he saw on the wall behind him. "See, the right hand is a little up and faces out, but the left hand is, here, put your middle fingers together and fold them back, leave your index finger straight, and touch your little finger to your thumb." He made the same gesture, so they stood facing each other. "Now, bend right, uh, your right knee. Yeah. And turn your left knee out, raise the foot, and put the toe on the ground."

"Like a ballet dancer."

"Yeah, en pointe. Okay, now straighten and look at me." For a moment they stood, exact images of each other, staring into each other's eyes. Daniel felt a little tremor or shudder, thought he heard a deep grinding noise that made him tremble, and then the two men fell against each other, Jack collapsing bonelessly against Daniel. For a moment, Jack lay in his arms, muscles slack, his mouth slightly open and his breathing stertorous. Daniel staggered under the sudden weight and his own dizziness, seizing hold of Jack even as the walls of the room spun around him. Within a moment, Jack roused, gasping and shuddering.

"What the fuck was that?" he mumbled, and then pushed Daniel behind him, pulled up his P90, and shouted, "Carter! Teal'c!" but they were already in the room.

"We need to get Jack back," Daniel told them, but Jack shook his head.

"I'm fine. Really," he added, when all three of his subordinates stared disbelievingly at him.

"You looked unconscious, sir," Sam said. "We need to get you to the infirmary."

"O'Neill."

"Fuck."

"Do you have all the pictures you need, Daniel?"

"Yes, thank you, Sam. I think we should go right now."

"Goddammit." Jack shook his head. "All right, let's get outta here. Shit."

"Sit down, Jack. Teal'c and I will break the lights down. Sam can stand guard."

Jack glared at him, but slid down the wall until he was seated on the floor, P90 propped between his legs. He looked furious.

Less than an hour later, they were back at SGC and Jack was under Dr. Frasier's loving care. The debriefing after their return had been a bit odd, Daniel thought, not that any debriefing after returning through the stargate was normal. But this was even odder. When Jack confessed to General Hammond that he'd felt dizzy, both he and Daniel were returned to the infirmary for even more tests. "I'm fine," Daniel kept insisting to anyone who approached him with a needle or piece of equipment. It wasn't quite the truth, but he hadn't lost consciousness, as Jack had, and Daniel wanted the doctors' attention on Jack. "I never got dizzy, I never felt anything."

Jack, however, was unusually subdued. He lay back obediently on the gurney and waited uncomplaining as he was poked and prodded by various medical personnel. He even took the MRI without whining, and everybody whined about the MRI. At last, Janet said, "I can't find anything wrong with you, Colonel. I'd like to keep you overnight, though, for observation." She paused, and Daniel knew she was waiting for Jack to explode, but he lay silent, looking calmly up at her.

"Can I sit with him?" Daniel asked.

She studied him for a few seconds, and he wondered what she was thinking. At last she said, "That's a good idea. You know him better than anyone; you can tell if he's acting out of character. Thank you, Daniel." Daniel looked at Jack, apprehensive that he might be offended at the suggestion, but he remained quiet, his eyes flicking between Daniel and Janet.

Finally, they were left alone, Janet giving them one last, long look before drawing the muslin curtains around Jack's hospital bed where he still lay quietly. Daniel sat next to him and, on an impulse he didn't understand, took Jack's hand. "What is it?" he asked softly.

Jack shook his head. "I don't know," he said softly. "I just don't feel right. Something's different." He looked into Daniel's eyes, and Daniel thought it was a good thing he hadn't been hooked up to one of Janet's machines; his heart rate went through the roof, all those levels above them. Jack, Daniel thought, was afraid.

"It'll be okay," he soothed. "You know that, Jack." Jack's fingers tightened slightly around Daniel's, and for some reason, Daniel felt enormously comforted by their pressure.

"I know. Just need some time to think."

"You gonna tell me what you're thinking about?"

Jack smiled a little. "It's too goofy to share," he said in a voice that made Daniel's shoulders relax.

"Okay. Keep your secrets. I'm gonna sit here for a while, though, if that's okay with you."

"I'd like that, Danny," he said very softly, and now Daniel smiled.

"Go home, Daniel." Janet's voice woke him, and he found he was still clutching Jack's hand. Jack seemed to be sound asleep, although at Janet's voice he sighed and rolled to face Daniel, never releasing his hand.

"I'm stuck," Daniel joked, but caught Janet's hand when she reached out to separate him from Jack. "No, it's okay. I want to be here for him."

"Well, you're going to have a crick in your neck tomorrow if you sleep like that."

"It's okay. He's worth a crick in the neck."

She smiled at him. "He's okay, you know. I can't find a thing wrong with him."

"I know," Daniel said, and was surprised by how confident he felt. There really wasn't anything wrong with Jack. He'd be fine tomorrow. "Maybe he's got gate-lag."

"As good a reason as any." Her smile grew warmer. "You're good for him, Daniel. I'm glad you're here." Glancing at Jack, as if to be sure he was really asleep, she whispered, "The nursing staff is glad you're here, too." She slipped away, leaving them alone again. This time Daniel laid his head on Jack's bed, and fell instantly asleep.

Jack was fine the next day, back to his usual sarcastic self, although he did find a sweet smile for Daniel when he first woke. One of the doctors examined him again, and Daniel was heartened to hear the normal complaints floating out of the cubicle where he was being prodded.

"So I'm cleared?" Jack asked Frasier when he emerged; she nodded and signed his release. "Thank you so much."

As they left the infirmary, Daniel smiled at Jack, who smiled back. "I'm glad you're okay."

"You're glad. Jesus. Hey, listen. Dinner tonight? I'll bring something by your place."

"Yeah, I'd like that," Daniel said. "Actually, there's a movie playing I'd like to see, too. We could go after dinner."

"Sure. We never made it to that last movie. But no subtitles. I'm serious. No fucking subtitles."

"No subtitles, I promise." Jack looked at him suspiciously, but followed him to Daniel's office.

"What a pain in the ass that was," Jack complained, shoving stuff aside so he could sit on Daniel's desk. "All those fucking medical tests. I'm fine."

"I can tell. You're back to your usual sarcastic, snide, sardonic, smart-ass self."

"Nice alliteration," he muttered, but Daniel could tell he was pleased.

As promised, that night, after a tedious day for them both, Jack dropped by Daniel's apartment bearing gifts of burgers and fries. Daniel had the screen caps spread out on his coffee table and was studying them. "Again?" Jack asked, stuffing his face with fries. "I thought we were going to some movie."

"Yeah." Daniel took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. "We will. We can. I just wish to hell I could figure this out. It seems significant. Look," and he pointed at the first figure. "This means 'teaching and debate.' But partnered with it, as if the participants are supposed to move directly from one position to the other, is 'obedience, tolerance, affection.'"

Jack stared over his shoulder, a few grains of salt falling onto the glossy pictures. "Let's try it," he said.

Daniel looked up, frowning. "Try it? Try the positions? Uh, Jack."

"Yeah, yeah. Listen, you tell anyone and I'll swear you're a liar, but no one can see us here. Let's try it. Maybe you'll get a brainstorm."

"Did you know that one meaning of 'brainstorm' is 'a harebrained idea'?"

"Forget it, Jackson."

"No, no. Actually, it might be a good idea. Or maybe not. After what happened yesterday."

Jack gave Daniel a look, and said, "Nothing happened yesterday. And if anything had happened yesterday, it would be good to, uh, duplicate the experiment, right?"

Daniel smiled and stood up. "Replicate. Okay. Um. In the name of science, then. And it's safe here. Okay," he repeated, a little nervously. "This is the first position." Their fingertips touched, their palms arched. Daniel raised his right foot and Jack his left in awkward positions, reminding Daniel of Indian art. They remained in that position for nearly a minute, before Jack put his foot down, literally.

"Next," he ordered, and peered at the second photo. In that one, one figure had its hands held below the waist, palms up; the other's hands were chest high, palms down. Their feet were in another awkward raised position.

This took longer for Jack and Daniel to mimic, and Daniel felt himself grow a bit irritated with Jack's recalcitrance. "Like this," he finally said, grabbing Jack's hands and turning them. Then he raised his hands and settled into the gesture, staring rather sternly into Jack's eyes. Jack had blushed a bit, and Daniel figured he'd be scolded afterwards, but it would be worth it if Jack would just cooperate now.

Almost instantly, the room seemed to sway around them, and then only Jack was there, Jack was there, Jack was everywhere. When Daniel opened his eyes he found Jack in his arms; he was embracing Jack as tenderly as a child. "Are you all right?" he whispered.

"Yeah. Just got a little dizzy. Maybe an earthquake?"

"I don't know. I don't think so." He looked around his room, at the fragile pots and swords still on the shelves and wall. "What was that, Jack?" When there was no answer, he added softly, "That was the second time."

"Fuck." Jack straightened himself, Daniel releasing him only very reluctantly. "What's going on?"

Daniel stared at him. "I don't know." Daniel felt almost overwhelmed by a desire to embrace Jack again, to somehow protect Jack, but he was too shy to do so.

"I think I should go home."

"I don't," Daniel said firmly. "I think you should sit down and eat some dinner. Maybe it's just low blood sugar."

Jack hesitated again, very unlike himself, Daniel thought, and then nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, you're probably right." He rubbed his face and sat, hard. "Burgers are getting cold, anyway."

"Yeah, all that fat's congealing."

"I so do not thank you for that image."

They ate quietly, discussing hockey and soccer and anything except the pictures or the mudras. To speak of them, Daniel felt, would add to their power, whatever that might be.

At last, though, Jack did speak of them, asking Daniel, "Do you think they really mean anything? Do anything?"

Daniel knew instantly what he meant. He felt almost superstitious about discussing the mudras and what had happened, but reluctantly said, "I don't know. There's a tradition of mudras as powerful tools in East Indian cultures. Some are supposed to cure ailments, other to promote thinking, others to help you achieve enlightenment. It isn't surprising that other cultures would have something similar."

"Yeah, but do they actually _do_ anything? What happened to us?"

"I don't know." He paused and then asked, "What do you think happened?" When Jack didn't answer, Daniel said, "Do you think the mudras did something to you? To us?"

"Maybe."

"You think we're somehow different than we were before?"

He shrugged. "I dunno."

"Anything's possible, Jack. But I have to tell you, I don't feel much different now than I did before."

"That's good," he said softly, and then Daniel knew that _he_ felt different.

"You feel different," he finally said. Jack shrugged again, his eyes sliding away from Daniel. "I'm serious, Jack. I need to know. I have a right to know."

That reached Jack, and he looked up. "Yeah, you do." He rubbed his face, and then his hair, so it stuck out wildly. "This is embarrassing," he announced, sounding more like Jack.

"Shit, Jack. We've been through so many embarrassing things in our years together. What's one more?"

Jack sat up straighter and looked Daniel in the eyes. "I feel closer to you. Ever since we did that first one, at your door. I feel -- that you're." He stopped abruptly, his eyes wide. "You're _dearer_ to me. Shit."

Daniel was a little nonplused, and felt a flutter of some unfamiliar emotion rush through him. Keeping his voice steady with an effort, he said, "But that's good, isn't it? I mean, it's to be expected. We've known each other a long time, and we've been through a lot. Why does this upset you?"

"Daniel. I want to _be with you_." Jack emphasized the words oddly, as if it was self-explanatory. He was blushing, too, and his eyes shifted away from Daniel.

"Well, I want to be with you. That's why we have dinner, or catch movies, or meet in the commissary. And we, uh." He paused, and swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. But he couldn't say it, couldn't point out how much time they spent together.

Jack burned scarlet, and Daniel knew that Jack knew what Daniel had been thinking. "Exactly," he said softly. "But, Daniel -- it's more than that. I don't know what it is, but. Jesus."

"Please. Tell me, Jack."

Jack stared at him, his face still red. "It's like I can't _be with you_ enough."

"You can't be with me enough."

"No, I can't. And since I'm idiot enough to be honest with you right now, my feelings are hurt that you don't feel the same way."

Daniel was stunned to hear Jack say those words. He remembered standing on the sidewalk in front of his apartment, watching Jack drive away. The terrible longing he'd felt not to let Jack leave. "But Jack," he finally admitted. "I've always felt this way. From when we first met."

"You feel the same way? You've felt this before?"

"Yes. Jesus." Daniel realized he sounded a little sharp.

"You never said anything."

"Well, shit. What was I supposed to say?"

"Well, how about you want to _be with me_?" They started to laugh, and Daniel put his arm around Jack's shoulders.

"Point taken," he conceded, and then he hugged Jack, who came into his arms as if running into the end zone and making a touchdown, the force knocking them back onto the couch.

"You feel so good," Jack whispered, and Daniel felt it, too, a warm buzzing, and the room seemed to sway and disappear, and there was only the two of them, their bodies and minds and hearts.

"If anything happens to you, I will die," Daniel whispered into Jack's ear, and then kissed him there, embarrassed but pushing on. "I would die for you, Jack, I would."

"You have," Jack reminded him, and pushed his face into Daniel's neck, his breath warm and moist. "And I think I will die for you."

Daniel felt as if he were in a dream, but he wasn't, he was in his own apartment, holding Jack. "We don't always get our dream come true," he murmured, and remembered yet again Sha'uri. But she'd released him, forgiven him, begged him to forgive Teal'c, and he knew with all his existence that she wanted him to move on and be happy. He sighed and pulled Jack nearly into his lap.

"What will we do, Danny?" Jack asked him, sounding a little bewildered. "How can I be your CO? Is there a way we can un-do this?"

"Do you want to?"

Jack laid his head against Daniel's shoulder, and Daniel hugged him tighter. "No," he whispered, and Daniel could tell he was embarrassed and a little ashamed.

"We'll muddle through," Daniel comforted him, surprised at his confidence. Maybe he did feel differently after the mudras. "Don't worry, Jack. We'll manage. We've always managed in the past."

Jack didn't say anything. Slowly, the world settled back down around them, and Daniel was aware again of his apartment, the traffic outside, the weight of this world's problems. He rocked Jack, trying to comfort him, holding on. When at last Jack raised his head, tired and still a bit embarrassed, Daniel said, "I love you."

Jack nodded, looking very serious. "Yeah. I love you."

"Yeah."

They sat together for a while longer, and then extricated themselves from their embrace. Daniel felt flushed and a bit feverish, and very reluctant to let Jack go. Finally Jack motioned toward the remains of their meal, and they began to clean up.

In the kitchen, while they washed up after dinner, Jack suddenly asked, "Are you really okay that I killed those people? The ones who hurt SG-11?"

Daniel thought for a moment, searching his heart. He remembered Sam and Teal'c telling him he must speak to Jack, and wondered if this was why. "Yeah," he said at last. "I understand why you did it. And I honestly can't think of an alternative." He paused again, biting his lip, and then looked straight into Jack's concerned and apprehensive eyes. "I told you, Jack. I trust you."

"You said you doubted my command."

"Oh, hell. Remember the circumstances. And that was a long time ago. And besides, I didn't really mean it at the time." Jack stared at him, and then relaxed. "You know me, Jack."

"Yeah," he said, and he sounded happy. "I do. You're a pain in the ass."

"That's my Jack," Daniel said, and realized he sounded happy, too.

"What's going to happen?" Jack suddenly asked, and Daniel thought his heart would melt.

"Anything you want," he said, and put his arms around Jack, who stood rigidly for a few seconds, and then relaxed. "Anything at all."

"Just you," Jack murmured.

"No movie?"

Jack didn't answer. They stood in the kitchen for several minutes, getting used to holding each other, Daniel thought. Finally, he took Jack's hand and they walked to Daniel's bedroom. Daniel sat on the bed and looked up at Jack standing before him.

He watched Jack hesitate and then unzip his jeans, kicking off his shoes and then pulling his jeans off and folding them. This was right, Daniel decided. He was simultaneously relaxed and excited, because he really did believe that everything would be all right, that being with Jack in this way was right. As excited and relaxed as if they'd done this a hundred times before.

After another minute, Daniel got undressed, just as if they were in the locker room, except then they crawled under the covers together. "Is this how it's gonna be now?" Jack asked him hesitantly.

"Is this how you want it to be?"

After a while, Jack said, "I think so. Yeah."

"Me, too." Daniel was comfortable like this, sharing his bed for the first time in many years, Jack's head against his shoulder, sharing the same pillow. "I love you," he said again, his throat closing with emotion, and Jack looked evenly at him, so close to him.

"I know you do, Danny," he said softly.

When the lights were out, they lay up against each other. It was a cold night; autumn was turning into winter, and his apartment was chilly. Lying in bed with Jack was comforting. But also, Daniel admitted to himself, arousing.

He was ashamed. And excited. And frightened.

"There was a, a mudra," Jack said suddenly, and Daniel raised up on his elbow to look at Jack, barely visible in the dark.

"Yes? Which one?"

Jack was silent for a long time, but Daniel remained above him, peering down at him. Finally, he said, "The first one. Compassion. The one you said was compassion."

"I remember," he whispered. He remembered when they'd performed it, and remembered feeling dizzy, and then soothed by it.

"I didn't tell you. But it, I." He sighed, his breath warm against Daniel's face. "God, Daniel. What's happening?"

"You love me," Daniel reminded him.

"Yeah? So?" He sounded a lot more like Jack, and Daniel smiled.

"That's all."

"So the positions, the mudras, they change us?"

Daniel thought, casting his mind back to what he knew about mudras and symbolic gestures. "I think," he finally said, choosing his words carefully, "that the ones we did, that we felt compelled to do, just somehow let us know how we felt."

"Great. Now I'm in touch with my feelings."

"Is that so bad?"

Jack stared up at him, and then gently stroked his face. "No," he agreed. "I guess not."

"There's another one," Daniel said, and rolled out of bed, picking his way down the steps to the hallway and into the living room where the pictures were. He flicked on a small lamp and selected one, carrying it back to his bedroom, leaving the light on. "Sit up, Jack. Okay," and he climbed onto the bed, kneeling in front of Jack. "Put your right hand here, on my face." Jack gently cupped his face, and in the dim light falling across the bed from the hallway, Daniel could see the glint of a smile. "Now your left hand here, over my heart." He set the photo aside, and mirrored the pose.

They held the posture for a full minute. Daniel felt a stirring in the room, as if a sudden wind were spiraling around them, through them. It smelled fresh and sweet, spring-like on this chilly autumn night, and there was a gentle rushing noise, but his windows were shut and the curtains unstirring. Still they held the pose, and the bed began to tremble and seemed to rise; the ceiling pulled back and distant suns from a million distant worlds gleamed down on them. A benediction. Then Jack slid the hand on Daniel's chest around to his back and embraced him.

His face pressed against Daniel's, warm, and comforting. Daniel turned his head slightly and kissed Jack, first on his cheek, rough with stubble, and then kissed his way to Jack's mouth. Jack met him, groaning with pleasure, with increasing tension as they grew more aroused. Daniel thought briefly of Sha'uri. Of his first time with her. He'd been a lot more frightened then than he was right now. The old ache for Sha'uri in his life would never leave him, he knew, but it was duller now, and he had room in his heart for both Sha'uri and Jack. And Jack was here now, tugging him down so he would roll on top of Jack. He pulled back for a few seconds, to stare down at Jack, and then bent over to kiss his beautiful mouth, sucking his tongue, breathing his breath.

Daniel put his hands on Jack's face and looked into his eyes. "This is what I've been looking for," he told Jack, realizing it as he spoke the words. "Through my whole life, the whole galaxy, this is what I wanted."

"A home? Someone who loves you? Someone in your bed at night?" But Jack wasn't joking, Daniel could tell. He wanted those things, he was _asking_ for those things from Daniel, and Daniel could give them to him.

"Would we ever have done this, if not for the mudras?" he murmured, and Jack sighed, rolling his head back so Daniel would kiss his throat again.

"Does it matter?" he whispered, and Daniel thought not. All that mattered was they'd found each other. Across an entire galaxy, through all the horror they'd seen and participated in, they'd found each other. He felt Jack thrust up against him, and he groaned in voluptuous pleasure at the firm sensation of Jack's dick rubbing against his thigh, of his dick rubbing against Jack's stomach.

How could it have taken him so long to figure this out? How could he not have known this truth, this wonderful truth? But he dismissed these mysteries as he succumbed to Jack's touches, his kisses. He would never know the answer to those questions. He could only know Jack, and Jack was finally here.

"Oh, god, you feel good," he sighed, and Jack clutched at him almost desperately.

"Oh, Danny," he cried, and pushed harder against Daniel, gasping, and Daniel felt him come against him, warm pulses of Jack filling the spaces between them, and then he came, too, collapsing on top of Jack.

Just before Daniel fell asleep, Jack whispered, "What was that called? That mudra?"

Daniel turned and pressed against Jack. "Clarity," he whispered. From the Latin _clarus_, clear. Transparent. Knowable. Visible. Lucid. To perceive the truth directly and instantaneously. "It was clarity."

For a moment, Daniel saw his entire life: his childhood, so happy in Egypt; his foster parents; his academic career; his time with Sha'uri, so brief, candle brief; his time in SGC; and now with Jack, whom he loved and had loved from one end of the galaxy to the other; and a future with Jack, who loved him right back, who comforted him and found comfort in him, and then he fell asleep, and dreamt of Jack's presence in his life.

When he woke up, Jack was grumbling about being sticky, but he kissed him and got them both up, pushing Jack into the shower and starting the coffee dripping. Only after he'd showered and had his first cup did he say, "Good morning, Jack."

Jack looked at him over the top of the newspaper and smiled. "Good morning, Daniel. I forgot to tell you; General Hammond okayed your idea to propose to the Tollan that they put a consulate on earth."

He smiled and sipped his coffee. He remembered that, around the same time he'd made that suggestion, Teal'c had urged him to meditate on the word "love," and wondered what Teal'c had seen that he had not. He put down his cup. "Listen, Jack. About last night."

"Oh, crap," Jack said, and folded the newspaper. "I'm sorry, Daniel. I didn't mean to push you into something you didn't want."

"Jack. I did want it. I do want it. I just wanted to be sure that you wanted it."

Jack stared at him. He began to smile. "I'll show you how much I want it."

Daniel glanced at his watch; they'd be late. But he looked at Jack's face, and stood up, pushing the chair back so abruptly it nearly tipped. "Come on, flyboy," he said softly, and held out his hand. "Let's go figure out what we're supposed to be doing in that bed."

"Oh, I think I know," Jack assured him, and led the way back.

It turned out, Daniel later thought, dazed and sated, that he really did know.


End file.
